


Are You Toxic For Me?

by anemic_cinema



Category: Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Angst, M/M, Masturbation, Racism, Rough Sex, Sexual Fantasy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-17
Updated: 2014-04-17
Packaged: 2018-01-19 17:13:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1477567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anemic_cinema/pseuds/anemic_cinema
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The fantasies that Glenn has about Daryl are definitely not healthy.</p>
<p>Content warning: racial slurs</p>
            </blockquote>





	Are You Toxic For Me?

Being attracted to potentially harmful men was something Glenn was all to well acquainted with. He'd always talked loudly about how fucked it up it was that other gay men put straight men on a pedestal of attractiveness, while those men where the most likely to hurt them. While he'd resisted that as best he could, he still managed to be attracted to men who were dangerous in other ways.

Daryl was one of them. He was a feral kind of man. At first he'd looked at the younger man with disdain. After a while that transformed into just pretending he wasn't there. Honestly, it was preferable to when he did pay attention. Being called 'chinaman' was hurtful, and Glenn was not about to correct him. The redneck and his brother were a scary pair, God only knew what they could do if they decided that they didn't like Glenn and his smart mouth. Merle came off as more openly willing to hurt others if he didn't like them, but Daryl's reserved nature made him more dicey. He was inscrutable. 

But at night, alone in his tent, when Glenn would jerk off, it was Daryl that was in the forefront of his mind. Thinking about him like that was reckless. To even open up a tiny spot in which he could worm in could mean disaster. If Glenn slipped, and Daryl caught him looking at him the wrong way, well...the possible outcomes were not pretty.

Objectively, Glenn knew he should stop doing it. Yet there was something irresistible about it. It was the taste of something forbidden. Something potentially deadly. That was why he thought of the older man on top of him, or making him go down on his knees, or pushing him up against one of the trees around the quarry.

Glenn's hand moved over himself, his hips moving along with the stroke of his palm as he thought of Daryl's weight on top of him, holding him down, fucking him hard and rough. He thought of those calloused hands pulling his hair, maybe even holding onto his throat. Teeth sinking into the skin of his neck, making him hold still so Daryl could fuck him the way he wanted to. In his mind he could practically hear the other man growling out possessive words, letting Glenn know who he belonged to, and how his body was his alone to use.

As far as fantasies went, this one wasn't the healthiest. But it still left Glenn panting and sweaty, with gobs of cum sticking to his hand. It was lonely, and if Glenn thought about it too much, his stomach would cramp up. But he kept doing it. There was something about Daryl that made it hard for him to stop. He'd seen the redneck do things while no one else was looking that suggested something delicate about him. Like smiling at the children while handing them the ball they used to play soccer, or looking up at the night sky while he was on watch.

Yet those things meant nothing objectively. Daryl still insulted him, still looked at him with contempt. And Glenn still thought of him, alone in his tent with only his hands to keep him company


End file.
